


I just want you to do me no good

by ships_and_yarns



Series: The hallboy and his footman [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_and_yarns/pseuds/ships_and_yarns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was beta’d by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/bedwyrssong">bedwyrssong</a>. Thank you so much, dear. Now you go and read his fics, if you haven't already (or read this first).</p>
    </blockquote>





	I just want you to do me no good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [daredevilmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevilmoon/gifts).



> This was beta’d by [bedwyrssong](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bedwyrssong). Thank you so much, dear. Now you go and read his fics, if you haven't already (or read this first).

Thomas is a gentle lover. Andy –Andrew, he should ask people to start calling him Andrew- is not used to that. He’s used to the rough hands of a slightly older footman, back in his old house, ripping his shirt open to expose his bare chest and pushing him against the wall as he moves against him, inside him.

He likes it, the almost painful but always pleasurable way in which his footman treated him. It never hurt, not really, and he liked being wanted that much.

But he also likes the way Thomas –Mr. Barrow, he prefers to be called Mr. Barrow- touches his face as he kisses him in the dark alley on their way back to the house. His fingers feel so soft against his scalp, buried under his hair, as he holds him: not pushing, not pulling, just touching, as if he wants to make sure Andy is real.

And Andy is oh so very grateful to Mr. Barrow –although he said Thomas, didn’t he?- who fixed his bowtie and stood up for him against that awful woman and won his money back. Gentle Mr. Barrow, who asked him what was happening and just cared so much, kind Mr. Barrow, who moans quietly as Andy moves his tongue around the tip of his penis, tasting the saltiness of his pre cum, and who barely moves when his lips close tightly around his erection.

He looks so composed and Andy can’t wait to see him fall to pieces under his mouth, to see him lose that smirk as his face twists with pleasure. Beautiful Mr. Barrow, who looks like the perfect servant inside the house and is like a dream come true now with his red lips barely open and his hair falling over his eyes. Andy almost prefers him this way: he can watch him as he loses control and feel every pulse of his cock as he nears his orgasm.

Andy raises his hand to Mr. Barrow’s stomach as if to hold him there. The floor of the alley is hard but Thomas’s –sure he can call him Thomas now, at least in his mind- prick feels soft as it moves in and out of his mouth. His hair is thick there, on his chest and over his belly and lower still. It’s so different from his face, so pale and lean, with soft skin and soft lips and eyelashes that flutter over his cheekbones as Andy swallows him deeper.

He wants to make him come, to have him hold Andy’s head roughly and thrust into him with quick and sharp movements. But then again he might prefer this, his hand moving over Andy’s head and his soft and quiet moans as Andy traces a path along the length of Thomas’ prick, curling around his head as he sucks, hollowing his cheeks and looking up to meet his blue eyes, now dark with desire.

And he’s close; Andy can feel it in the way his cock twitches between his lips. He’s close and his hand is now tightening on Andy’s hair and his hips are rocking against him and he throws his head backwards and the vein in his neck is pulsing strongly under his skin and he’s close, he’s so close, and he’s moaning and it almost sounds like his name –Andy, not Andrew, because nobody calls him Andrew yet- and he moves so fast, up and down his shaft, and his lips close even more tightly around him and he is closing his eyes and opening his mouth and he’s moaning his name, Andy can hear it, moaning his name in a dark alley of London because he’s so good at this and Thomas is so beautiful with his face flushed and he feels so beautiful inside his mouth and he tastes so beautiful when he comes down his throat.

“Andy…” He whispers and they kiss slowly, softly, and if Andy didn’t know better he would think that they could love each other, eventually, and share lazy kisses every morning and hungry kisses every night.

“Let’s go home,” Thomas –no, Mr. Barrow, he’s Mr. Barrow again- says and they walk in silence to the house and they don’t hold hands and he doesn’t lean against Andy in the darkest parts of the street, but he does smile and it’s bright and sweet and maybe, just maybe, it could happen. One day.

Because Thomas is gentle and kind, at least to him, but he can be rough and Andy does love that too, his footman proved that, but this…

This is nice too. This is very nice indeed.


End file.
